


the unlocking & the lift away

by moviescriptendings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moviescriptendings/pseuds/moviescriptendings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time John leaves them alone in a motel room, Dean is five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the unlocking & the lift away

The first time John leaves them alone in a motel room, Dean is five.

  
He had stepped out to call someone on the pay phone just down the street, and when he came back his eyes were wild, and he kept saying something about how there wasn't anyone nearby to watch them and if he waited he'd miss this chance- "do you understand, Dean? I have to go, if I don't go now we'll miss him, and I don't know when we'll get this close to that yellow eyed bastard again"- so after a solemn promise to not open the door for anyone, not even if they're in a uniform or even if they look like someone you know, I mean it, his father is out the door and Dean is left standing in the middle of the room listening to the roar of the Impala as it tears out of the motel parking lot.

  
Dean feels the instinctive tears but wipes them away with determined fists before they have a chance to fall. He's a big boy now, just like dad said, and it doesn't matter that he's all alone in this cramped motel room that smells funny with scratchy blankets and a rented crib crammed into a corner, and it definitely doesn't matter that it's already starting to get dark and Dean hates the dark, hates the things that he knows lurks in the shadows, things that used to be not-real but have somehow transitioned into _real_ since the fire, since Mommy died. It doesn't matter that when it's dark it's bedtime, and Dean hates bedtime because when he closes his eyes all he can see are flames and all he can feel is heat, and terror. It doesn't matter. He's a big boy now, just like dad said, and he has to take care of Sammy.

Sammy, who is sitting on a blanket on the floor and gumming a plastic ring and staring at Dean with wide eyes, like he's just as shocked as Dean is that their dad is gone. Sammy, who is just a helpless baby and can't save Dean from the dark anymore than he can save himself. They stand there for a solid minute just looking at each other, until there's a loud noise outside and Dean jumps and Sammy begins to wail.

Dean rushes to him immediately, scooping up his brother with some effort and using the edge of his tshirt to wipe away his tears. "It's okay, it was just a noise. We're big boys now, we're okay," he tells him.

He checks his diaper like his dad taught him, but it's dry and Sammy is still crying, tiny fists clenched and waving, his face red and twisted from the effort. When Dean tries to give him a bottle his brother wrenches away from him as if offended and continues to scream. Dean tries to jiggle him around the room, repeating all the things he's heard his parents say (the things his _dad_ says, don't think about her, _don't think about her_ ) and when that doesn't work he tells Sammy all the jokes he's ever heard, and he forces his voice to sound happy even though he is not happy, not at all.

But Sammy won't stop crying, and Dean is old enough to understand that if his brother's crying brings attention, it won't be good. Holding Sammy is tiring, and Dean wishes desperately that he was big and strong like their dad, who can hold all sorts of heavy things and never ever gets tired, so finally he lays his brother on the motel bed and climbs up next to him, sits propped up against the headboard and then awkwardly tugs Sammy into his arms. He rocks side to side, singing every song he can think of, and still Sammy continues to cry. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and misses his mother.

After a few moments, Sammy's sobs ease into whimpers and then he quiets. Dean opens his eyes to realize that he's been idly stroking the bit of skin between Sammy's eyebrows right before the dip where his nose begins. Sammy is staring up at him, eyes drowsily tracking his brother's, and as Dean watches his eyelids slowly shut and just like that- Sammy's asleep.

When their dad comes back hours later, Dean hasn't budged from his spot on the bed, partially because he was too afraid to move and jostle Sammy awake, but also because there was a feeling settling in his chest, something about being the reason why his brother finally calmed down. Something about the look they shared before Sammy fell asleep, like Dean was his whole world. Dean has always loved being the big brother but now it feels like something else, something _more_.

"I took care of Sammy, Daddy," Dean whispers.

An expression passes across John's face that Dean can't read- for a moment he looks proud, but then it shifts into something impossibly sad. "I know you did, buddy," John says, his voice sounding weird, and when he leans over his sons and lifts Sammy, Dean knows he should feel relief because he's five and his arms ache, but the absence of weight in his arms feels too much like loss.


End file.
